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UNEMPLOYED
17th December 2013
Nikoloz Sabauri's Flat, Tokyo, Japan
I entered my flat and swiftly collapsed on to my bed, yanking off my shoes and lying back lazily. I had a cigarette betwixt my fingers which I occasionally inhaled and on the table beside me was a bottle of whisky that I had all-but-emptied the previous night. I quickly took the bottle in to my hand and downed its remnants before closing my eyes and sighing.
It had been yet another day of monotonous office work. The pay was little and the enjoyment was none-existent. With all the things I had got myself in to I was surprised I even had a job, though, but the fact I could translate Spanish to Japanese and vice versa was a big bonus for my employers- Spanish being my first language, due to the fact I was born and raised in Barcelona to Georgian immigrants.
I used to enjoy day-to-day life. When I was 22, I had moved to Japan from Barcelona and started playing semi-pro football. I met a lot of good people and had a decent career, but I was constantly needing money and having to juggle football and a job was hard if I desperately needed money, so I retired from it at 28. Since then, I've been hoping for a chance at a managerial job, but I've never found one that would pay a stable wage, and I'm 31 now.
I took a seat by my desk and logged in to my incredibly old and low-performance computer that a friend had given me for free. I loaded up my e-mails to check if my agent, and old friend of mine who I had played with when I was playing semi-pro, had found an decent jobs for me, but, of course, nobody was interested in some random sack of crap who lived alone, drinking and smoking in his hovel.
"Screw it," I murmured under my breath and began typing out an E-Mail to my agent. 'Hey mate, I just don't think this is going to work... Thanks for everything you've done, but I don't think I'm ever going to get a break in football. I'm just a liability to you right now so drop me off your shortlist. I'll see y-' I stopped typing as my mobile began to ring.
I pulled out my Nokia and looked at the caller- funnily enough it was my agent. Anticipation cuasing my eyebrow to raise I answered it and waited for a reply. "Nikoloz, my friend, how fast can you get to Gwangju?" My agent asked in a high, enthusiastic tone.
"You what?" I replied jokingly. "What's a Gwangju?" I actually remembered that Gwangju was in South Korea.
"Be there in two days, or the opportunity is gone," my agent told me assertively. "See you."
With haste I dabbed my cigarette on to my ash tray and pulled a backpack out of the cupboard, quickly collecting everything necessary for my little business trip. "I better check to see Gwangju isn't in North Korea first, though." I nodded happily, making a pacy jog down the staircase after locking my door.
But funny update too, what with that North Korea thing at the end 
